


Cross My Heart And Hope To Die.

by a19YearOldTryingHerBest



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Broken Promises, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I tried my best, I'm Sorry, Slightly Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a19YearOldTryingHerBest/pseuds/a19YearOldTryingHerBest
Summary: OFC finds Barry did another hit after promising he would stop.





	Cross My Heart And Hope To Die.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Strong language, canon divergent (Detective Moss didn’t find out about Barry, Barry and Sally weren’t a thing)
> 
> A/N: Sorry if it’s a little ruff, i haven’t written in a long time, let alone in English. If you see a typo or have a prompt, feel free to tell me. Anyway, I hope you like it.  
You can find me on Tumblr by a19yearoldtryingherbest.

She stared at the empty space in the stash under the bed, a handgun and a clip were missing. That motherfucker. She knew what it ment and she was more than just angry, she felt furious, hurted, betrayed and, even if she wouldn’t ever admit it, fearful for him.

He would be back in an hour or so. He was practicing for the play, or so he told her, not that she was trusting his word that much in that moment. Or ever since she found out what he had done, every time he was away from her looking at his stash. As she looked for more evidence she thought back on the night she made him swear he wouldn’t do it again.

_There was a thousand emotions and thoughts running through her at that moment. He had told her almost everything there was to know, why he had started, every hit he did, how he got in the acting class, about the mobs, everything but Chris, he knew there would be no going back if he told her about Chris._

_— Emily? — he had stopped talking about eight minutes ago and she hadn’t said a word._

_— Yeah? — her voice sounded hoarse and distant, like she was replying only by force of habit and not because she wanted to._

_— Can you say something? — he asked only because not knowing what she was thinking was eating him inside. Nonetheless, she didn’t say a word — Please._

_A moment went by and then another. Emily moved her head slightly to the left, looking at the floor were Barry’s shoes were— I- I don’t know. — She still hadn’t looked at him, at his eyes, she wasn’t sure if she even could. He was an assassin, a murderer. He took people’s lives and watched them die with those eyes, the same eyes that looked at her every night while he told her he loved her._

_And now she wasn’t even sure if that was true._

_They stayed there in silence, sitting on their bed, their mind raising in different directions. Barry kept thinking what she was going to say, how was she going to hurt him, preparing his mind to hear her say he was a monster and she was afraid of him, of having him near._

_Emily wasn’t really thinking, her mind was still, almost frozen, trying to piece it all together but it was caught up on a loop. He’s a hitman, he kills for a living. And it didn’t make sense._

_She couldn’t understand it. And she didn’t want to. It was Barry. A sweet dorky guy that she met on acting class. How could he kill?_

_All the sudden she asked — When was it?_

_— What?_

_—The last time. When was it? — she knew it hadn’t be long ago. The blood stained shirt on the kitchen table and the gun on the counter were proof that. They were exactly were she left them when she found them. She could see it laying there, a few feet to her right, as if it was only a piece of metal and not something it was used to kill somebody._

_He stayed petrified for a second, processing what she asked. And when he understood he knew it was all going to be worse — Three days ago._

_— God. — Emily stood up and drifted away from him, turning her back on him, she couldn’t look at him, felt sick to her stomach_

_Three days ago. On Shakespearean night._   
_ Only three fucking days ago._

_She had been with him three days ago, she had dried his tears three days ago, she had told him she loved him three days ago. And he had said it back._

_— Do you love me? — her voice sounded shaky and afraid, almost dissapearing at the end, she felt herself about to break into tears._

_— Yes. I- why would you ask that? — he stood up and took a few short steps towards her, tentative of touching her shoulder but restraining himself, afraid of scaring her off. Her small body stood still, hugging herself with her arms, back still turned on hin — I- I do, I love you_

_— Then why do you do this? — She snapped, turning around to look him, letting Barry see the tears dwelling on her eyes — If you’d love me. If you’d really love me. You wouldn’t keep doing it? — she passed her hand over her cheek, trying to dry the overflowing amount of tears running down from her eyes — You said that you started because of that depress feeling and that it faded a little when you started in the class, and then with me. But you keep doing it. — She recovered her breath before speaking again, trying to steady her voice — So why do you keep doing it?_

_— I- — she looked at him, at his face, he was looking down but she could still see the sadness in his features and make out the small tears in his eyes — I don’t know. I think that, uh, that feeling it’s- it’s still there._

_— Then why didn’t you tell me? — she sounded tired, sad and disappointed. And she couldn’t hold it anymore when he looked at her straight in the eye, both hurted almost beyond repair, and she started crying and sobbing, falling to the floor, next to the table_

_And Barry stood there seeing her crying because of him, every heavy breath she took punching him in the stomach and each tear leaving paper cut wounds all over his heart._

_— I’m sorry. — he sobbed. He sounded broken, hopeless — Emily, I’m so sorry. I want to be good, I want to. I didn’t mean to do this to you. To- to us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m- — he was falling apart in front of her and she saw it happened, she saw him crying trough her own tears, and saw him trying to compose himself again before taking a deep breath — I’ll leave._

_— Don’t. — she hadn’t given her brain permission to utter that word but she didn’t regret it. — Don’t go. Stay. — he followed suit, uncertain yet hopeful._

_She stood up and looked at him in the eye — Stop._

_— I’m not doing anything._

_— No, stop the killing. — She stopped for a second reflecting on that one word. It was just that what he’d been doing, killing, murdering — Fuck. I can’t fucking believe I’m saying this. — she felt stupid, letting him stay was dangerous, reckless and idiotic but she also knew she couldn’t be without him, not then, not after she just had him. She looked at Barry the hopeful look on his eyes — That’s the only way I’m going to let this happen, if you stop with all of it. Starting now._

_A small smile broke out between all of his tears — Yes, of course, yes. — he stepped forward to embrace her but she took a few steps back and his face fell._

_— I’ll try to- God — she pressed her hand on her face and finished slightly pinching her nose before of letting it go altogether — I’ll try to- to get over it. But I need some space._

_— I- uh, I get it. — he stood there, awkwardly looking at her proximity, not knowing what to do— I’ll go._

_As he was about to cross the door she stoped him — Just… Swear it._

_— I swear it. — they locked eyes as he’s hand lingered on the door handle to close it and stepped outside of their apartment— Cross my heart and hope to die_

She found herself frozen. Not knowing where else to look, only recalling those events that took place months ago. He didn’t know she knew were he kept his guns. She founded them when he gave her the space she asked for. He didn’t told her about them and never got rid of them, that should’ve been a red flag but she let it be, it was an insurence for her, an alarm to know what he was doing, to know if he had broken his promise.

As she started feeling her eyes burning with tears Barry opened the door, out of breath, his face pale and his hands slightly shaking. He was dress in all black. He stumbled around the kitchen, pulled the gun from the back of his pants waistline, taking the clip out and putting them both in the kitchen table, he dragged his hands over his face and whispered “fuck” over and over again. He hadn’t seen her yet. Not until he turned araund.

— Fuck. — he said when he saw her standing in front of him, tears in her eyes.

— Yeah. — her voice sounded as she looked, broken.

Silence fell upon bth of them. Neither of them wanting to move, as if that way the whole would pause and they didn’t had to deal with all of it. But she wanted to deal with it.

— You broke your promise, Barry. You broke… everything. And I think you need to leave.

— No, please! Look I didn’t do it. I- I didn’t do it! Just- please, just look at the clip. — he pleaded, his face showing all of his sorrow, his eye flickering ith tears and his lower lip trembling in fear.

— I don’t fucking care! You were gonna do it! — he flinched at her words as if they were daggers — Fuck! I can’t belive you put me in this fucking potition twice! How the fuck do you do it twice!!

They fell into silence, it almost felt the whole world did.

He knew he should’ve just left but he couldn’t, he wanted her to know, to forgive him — Hank- He said he was going to make his family kill me, kill us.

She scoffed, not beliving him. She moved towards the bed and looked at him. He whispered a soft ‘no’ as she moved the matres, looking at him straight in the eye as she opened the ziper of the fake matress below — Did Hank tell you to keep all of this then?

— No, but I- uh, I can explai-

— No you can’t. — Emily cutted him off, fury burning in her eyes — Not without lying. — she scoffed sourly, stepping aside the bed and the guns — You really are a great actor. You keep lying to yourself and everybody else and it’s really fucking belivable. I know I fell for it. — she grabed her coat and put it on — Guess Mr Conuseau was right when he let you into the class.

Emily walked towards the door, but he softly took her hand and looked at her face, trying to take all of her features in for what probably was the last time. — I- I’m so sorry, Emily. — she stared at him for a few seconds, tears were rolling down his face, sobbing and whimpering ever so slightly, trying to maintain himself composed, just like the shakespearean, maybe even more broken, specially when she pulled her hand off of his.

— I won’t be here until tomorrow at noon, take all of your stuff. — she said, in a stone-cold manner, not wainting to show how much she hurted — I don’t want to see you again, Barry.


End file.
